march 19.
so excited for this.
the new Low album.
look at the capital letter i gave their name.
since when does that happen?
oh, since that post.
anyway, check out a cut from the album, which promises to be full of experimentation and a touch of electronic additions--at least for low. subtle as always. anyway, rumor has it that this new album is supposed to be dark as anything. bring it.
oh, the promised track: breaker.
the thing about the ny times online is that they always have these snapshot-y looks at various artists, usually visual ones--which happens to work well, no surprise--that really pique my interest. like this article on jeff wall.
the thing about these articles is that they have these really great slideshow deals that always leave you wanting more, but inevitably include at least one unbelievable gem, like this staged photo of ralph ellison's invisible man:
the thing about these pictures is that they usually exert a mind-crushing force on me and my supposed creative powers.
the thing about mind-crushing is that it leaves your mind crushed.
the thing about having your mind crushed is that it does not function like it used to, which explains why i post in such an inarticulate way 107% of the time.
the thing about that is that something you say might be relevant to something if you keep working on it and repeating yourself.
the thing about relevance is--then again, it might not be at all.
which is what makes it so beautiful.
now. is. the. last. [edit]. day. of. class.
for. a. whole.
week. week. week. week. week. week.
some things are just too much to believe. so now that i have some free time (hopefully) i will try to restore my mental state to that odd state of simulated normalcy that my creative process depends on. i will attempt to shut out the voices, however strident, that tell me i am not writing about the right things, and that i spread myself out--they can go do what ever they need to do to make themselves feel good when someone blows off their advice. this is what i need to do, and i am doing it.
prior thanks to special k, who i'll be dropping in on mid-week at ND to applaud at her reading.
oh, and just
in case you call, i will be out for the week.
i am writing. oh, yes. i. am. writing.
*drop me a line in a week and see if i get anything done over the break.
...because the truth is, no one has any idea what they are doing anyway. those that think they know are just in a temporary state of indecision, however prolonged. soon comes the endless dark of questioning eternal and ceaseless, redundant and eternal.
...because how can you come to a conclusion, a resolution, when there is always another moment about to upturn your decisiveness? and would it make a difference if you had decided prior to that upheaval?
...because the shifting ground beneath makes it impossible to find purchase.
...because, because.
be the cause. be the decision, the action. resolve, alone, now. be the cause.
t. once asked me what it was doing on my bookshelf. how could i live with myself, knowing that it was there--and had i even read it, besides? (a little over half, i admitted.)
well, now there are two copies. different editions, of course, which makes it tolerable and probably even more disgusting in his opinion.
joyce.
he gets his own line.
ulysses.
also gets its own line.
we are now in the thick of things, three chapters in, but this time i am prepared. i've got my annotated accompanying book, a second on loan from school, and a sheaf of related photocopied material, courtesy of the old w.f.--who is of course himself the main resource for understanding the beast. we'll see if i manage to get through the beast this time; on a schedule; as part of a course; abusing the semicolon; of course, of course; a nod's as good as a wink to a blind horse.
and my current favorite line from the behemoth?
"your post-prandial. do you know that word? post-prandial."
i love it. absolutely love it.
that is my reply to you t. hope you read this (i'll put in a request to the man so you can drop by my blog.)
do you listen. do you understand. this is by way of command.
i can hear a collective rumbling in america.
read the books
i've lost my house. you've lost your house.
do you listen. do you understand. this is by way of command.
the fever is on you. pray that it continues. you are in a period of ecstatic production.
does this have anything to do with your impending fatherhood?
the baby kicks and moves quite a bit now. you have even been lucky enough to feel him moving yourself.
cross your fingers. hope this ride goes on a little longer.
credit it all to something besides yourself (read: buy flowers for wife).
continue unabated. and most of all, do not ask why things are the way they are.
--unconscious self
the hopwoods are over. at least, the work part of them is--i turned in two stories and an assortment of poems that i had lying around. now all i have to due is wait for the verdict, which won't come till april or so.
other deadlines: application for summer chinese lang. study funding. applying for this was as bad as applying for grad school. transcripts, test scores, rec letters, the whole bit. my personal statement was a nice piece of fiction, if i do say so myself, and i do.
and also: i volunteered to go early in workshop, and laid a story on them last night for them to look at next week. it is rather messy, but i needed to get it out of the way so that i could work on some other things. i am bursting at the seams right now with ideas, but don't have the time to get them all out. oh, just to put them on paper. (ironic, that i am simultaneously wasting time and bemoaning the lack thereof.)
so in all, the deadlines have passed, i got everything in, and now i can really dig in and get to work. let the magic happen. come on muse. come on inspiration. um, really, any time now. come on.
*note: my reading was a smashing success. a hit beyond what i could have imagined. i felt that people actually liked my story. it gave me a much-needed lift. wish that it were always like this.
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